War of the Ring: Volume II
by dan-yoda
Summary: Sequel to War of the Ring Volume 1, this continues the story of the Wood Elves and their role in the War of the RIng.
1. The Birth of Evil

WAR OF THE RING-VOLUME II  
  
BY YODAMAN  
  
In the Woodland Realm, the War of the Ring has begun. Not only has Necromancer assailed Lorien several times, but also King Thranduil is having trouble in his realm. Aralokë Royalsnake had a vision where Faramir of Gondor asked Thanduil's aid, Thranduil accepted, and then all of Mirkwood fell. Anganca Ironjaw (the teller of this tale) didn't believe Aralokë, so he and some friends went out on the west road (the only road to get from Gondor to Mirkwood) to look for Faramir and company. What they found instead was a hobbit carrying a fake One Ring to lure the enemy away from the Ringbearer. After one friend lost an arm and another friend lost his life, Aralokë brought the hobbit to safety. There was a counsel on the fate of the hobbit, but a Lorien scout who told them of Lorien's assaults by Necromancer interrupted it. Thanduil send his army to Lorien's aid, but what they found instead was an ambush. The armies of good were about to win when a volley of magical blades fell through the sky and hit each soldier and they all fell unconscious. While he was unconscious, Aralokë had another vision where the Ringbearer kept the ring for himself and destroyed all of Middle-Earth. That's what would happen if Aralokë should fail.  
  
CHAPTER I  
  
THE BIRTH OF EVIL  
  
Saleme was a young Haradrim girl, whose parents were destroyed by the Wizard Gandalf the Gray (some believe that her parents were the same Haradrim that Gandalf destroyed to rescue Aralokë, but there is no evidence to prove it) and brought to Saruman the White (or as he likes to say it, Saruman of many colors). Unlike Aralokë, whom Saruman demanded he be returned to his hometown, Saruman found promise in the adolescent girl, so he took her under his wing. He told Gandalf that he sent Radghast to take her to Rivendell, but he hid her in Isengard and from Gandalf, Radghast, and the Blue Wizards. Every day he spent a few hours out of his time to teach her the arts of Wizardry. He gave her a Tinúviel bird to keep her company, but it did not seem to be enough for her. She hated being alone more than anything in the world, and Saruman constantly told her of the responsibilities he had and what Gandalf and the other wizards would do if they found her. She loved the magic, though, and she loved the power it gave her, and that is what Saruman had worried about her.  
  
Saruman constantly made her undergo tests, from killing orcs to casting spells to saving her life to choosing between a beautiful Elven husband to continuing her training with Saruman. She had passed all her tests, but Saruman always found something wrong with her (his correcting her missions was one of her pet peeves). This day, Saruman sent her to the Misty Mountains to combat Naugdagnir, a dangerous Urulóki (Fire-Drake) dragon. As all well-educated beings of Middle-Earth knew, a dragon is covered from head to tail in thick scales that are thicker than armor, and can breathe fire and disembowel anyone with their claws the size of a Hobbit drunk on Ent-Draught. The more greedy dragons normally covered their hide with jewels and gold, and lived in a horde of treasures that they do nothing but stare at, and Naugdagnir was the opposite of that stereotype. He loved to be outdoors, and when he got hungry, he destroyed farmer's livestock for food. Farmers had often complained that the beast should be killed. Saleme had thought that the dragon should live and that he just killed the livestock for food, but when Saruman had told her to kill the dragon, she did not hesitate. She had brought her wand (a measly stick with magical properties), her blood-red robe, and her poisoned throwing blades (throwing those blades was her greatest skill). She had traveled several days on foot and climbed up the mountains, which were steaming like pot of boiling oatmeal. She had scaled the mountain until she found the fourth entrance, which was where Saruman said the Fire Drake lived. The cave was very dark and dank, and not a sight could be seen. However, as soon as she began walking closer and closer towards inside the cave, she heard a deep, evil voice.  
  
"Why have you entered my realm?" said the voice. "I was sleeping."  
  
"I am here with a present", said Saleme.  
  
"What present could a being like me want?" asked the voice. "Unless it's a dragonette...  
  
"I won't tell you", said Saleme. "It'll ruin the surprise. Now come here".  
  
"By the holy lamps of the Valar!" cursed the voice. "Just give me a hint!"  
  
"COME HERE YOU CORCROW!" yelled Saleme.  
  
"If you insist", sighed the voice. Saleme heard several booming noises, and a muzzle poked out of the darkness. "Oh! It's a female! Are you the present?"  
  
"My present will hurt a lot more than my beautiful body", shouted Saleme. She then threw one of her blades into the darkness and heard a loud scream. The voice came into the darkness, and she finally saw that it was Naugdagnir, and she had thrown the blade in his eye. As the dragon was stomping around, wallowing in his misery, she aimed her staff at his eye.  
  
"Beleg nen undulav hi suar!" yelled Saleme. A stream of water then thrashed out of her staff and sprayed the dragon, which was in more agony after the attack. His legs were wobbling, his wings were flapping like paper in an Edoras breeze, and he was rubbing his face along the sand to get rid of the blade in his eye. Saleme felt some guilt from this creature's pain, but she loved the power, so she kept spraying and spraying the dragon until smoke started coming out of his mouth. She stopped spraying the water just then, and then Naugdagnir fell to the ground and never breathed again. She slowly walked up to the dragon, and put her ear against his muzzle, and she heard no signs of breath. She then unsheathed a throwing blade with a smile. She felt a pang of happiness as she realized she controlled this creature's fate, and she chose to kill it. As she lifted the blade to slit the creature's throat, the dragon leaped up again and whipped her with his tail. She flew back several feet, and the dragon came charging at her. She then stood in an action pose, but she heard a deep voice behind her.  
  
"Met dûr lhug!" yelled a deep voice. The dragon then disappeared, and Saleme turned around to see Saruman standing with his staff.  
  
"I told you I would improve on my fake creatures", said Saruman.  
  
"YOU!" yelled Saleme.  
  
"Yes, me", said Saruman.  
  
"So that wasn't the real dragon?"  
  
"No. I created him. He was just a mix of light particles and ancient magic to make it look real when it is not."  
  
"So whatever happened to the real Naugdagnir?"  
  
"There was never a real Naugdagnir. I made him up."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"Just a part of the test".  
  
"HOW COULD YOU? You made me waste my energy for a non existing monster?"  
  
"The whole purpose was not to test your fighting ability, but to test to see what you do with power".  
  
"What?"  
  
"You have a strange addiction of power. The magic I give you just increases your craving. First you felt satisfied with taking care of Ninniach (Saleme's Tinúviel bird), but soon that was not enough. I noticed that whenever you are in combat you enjoy your opponent's pain."  
  
"So? It encourages me to give you my best effort!"  
  
"This really worries me! When I let you go, when you get the freedom you deeply desire, you might become no better that a tyrant like Sauron or Morgoth before him. You must end these emotions at once!"  
  
"QUIT LECTURING ME! IF I WERE STILL IN MY HARAD VILLIAGE I WOULD HAVE MY COMING OF AGE CEREMONY! I COULD GET PREGANT RIGHT NOW IF I WANTED TO! I'M NO CHILD!"  
  
"You are my child! You are not ready to face the world yet! Join me! Continue our partnership! You could become a far greater asset to you are not ready to face the world yet! Join me! Continue our partnership! You could become a far greater asset to this world if you just take my hand and quit this childish whining!" "You are no friend of mine", shouted Saleme. She then used her wand to shine a bright light in Saruman's face. While Saruman was temporarily blind, Saleme ran out of the cave and leaped out of the cave. Saruman didn't see where she fell, but he knew she was lost forever. He then saw a moth fly by and he snagged it.  
  
"Echoir I thoron", said Saruman to the moth. "Dim na im!" The moth then left to get Saruman's mode of transportation. Saruman had assumed she had died in the fall. He would tell Gandalf and the other wizards that he met a girl whom he tried to save but died, so that all available Wizards would converge and pray to Mandos in the traditional way that he be gentle to his knew arrival.  
  
However, Saruman was unbeknownst to the real truth. Saleme had fallen from the great height, but she used the water spell as she fell to create a large, pool-like body of water to cushion her fall. She didn't come out undamaged, however, but she did live the fall. She then got out to leave in search of work, which was a lot harder than she thought. In the area around the Misty Mountains, all jobs were ran by men and employed by men, and whenever she asked for a job, she was told that women didn't know how to work. She looked everywhere, but every time she applied for a job she was refused due to her sex or that flies flocked to her due to her stink. She got so tired of people making fun of her smell that she went to an abandoned river, took off her clothes, and began to swim. As she got out of the water to retrieve her clothes, she found that her clothes, throwing blades, and staff had been stolen. From then on she walked around naked across middle-earth, and people either mocked her for that or they accused her of being a prostitute and tried to get the authorities to lock her up. She had evaded civilization for a long time, hunting around the world for food like the very first men that Illúvatar had created. One day, however, she met a creature that looked like a very mangled hobbit.  
  
"We thinks yous lost", said the creature. "Don't we, precious? Yes we do, my love. GOLLUM! GOLLUM!"  
  
"I guess you can say I am lost", said Saleme. "I threw my life away and I need a new one!"  
  
"Are yous lost?" asked the creature.  
  
"YES!" yelled Saleme. "I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN THE UNIVERSES OF THE VALAR I AM!"  
  
"There is a man in that cave over theres that might help you, right precious?" said the creature. "Exactly, my love".  
  
"Thanks", said Saleme. She then walked into the cave that the creature pointed out and found it very different from what she expected. The whole place was in fire, and yet she wasn't hot nor burning. She turned around and saw a sight that she had learned to avoid- the eye of Sauron.  
  
"Don't be afraid, my child", said a voice from afar. "I will take care of you". Suddenly, the flame embraced her, and she felt strange sensations throughout her body. She was transforming, transforming into a creature of destruction. She finally had a life, one that would change Middle-Earth and me forever. 


	2. Traitor in the Midst

CHAPER II  
  
TRAITOR IN THE MIDST  
  
Shortly after I had fallen, I awoke to the sound of Elven screams and common chatter. I immediately leaped up but I felt a hand press me down.  
  
"Be still", said the sweet voice. "The blade that the woman threw at you was tipped with poison. I'm not the greatest doctor, but I think the poison was a virus". I ignored the words for a moment, for I knew the voice that was speaking.  
  
"GLORFINDEL!" I exclaimed. I then leaped up and hugged him (in a manly way- not the way two people in love hug) and he got all jumpy.  
  
"The virus is still in your blood, Anganca!" exclaimed Glorfindel.  
  
"Quit being so jumpy", I said. "The virus won't hurt me. Viruses don't hurt Elves."  
  
"That's true", said Glorfindel. I stepped off of the leafy ground and stretched my arms. I looked around the field and saw many elves walking normally, but I also found some screaming in pain as healer did their magic on them.  
  
"What happened?" I asked.  
  
"It was Saleme", said Glorfindel.  
  
"Who?" I asked.  
  
"The Red Witch", said Glorfindel. "She's a Haradrim huntress that works for Sauron in a very intimate way. She must be in charge of all the activity going on in this area."  
  
"I've never heard of her", I said.  
  
"Well, I heard a story about her", said Glorfindel, "But I don't know if it's true or not".  
  
"Just tell me", I said. Glorfindel then told me the story of Saleme that I told you earlier, but I wasn't entirely satisfied. "Do you know what happened to us? In the battle?"  
  
"One of the legends of Saleme is that she has an endless supply of throwing blades", said Glorfindel. "She must've had a blade for each of you".  
  
"How many casualties?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Why are you here? Did you just happen to pass by?"  
  
"Basically. I was riding with a group of Elves on our way back from Rivendell when we saw your unconscious army and Saleme, who was draining the blood from one of your soldiers. She was blabbing about 'draining the blood from a thousand enemies to ensure Sauron's victory. I then carefully aimed a bow at her and fired, and it punctured one of her lungs, I think. Her Haradrim cronies then panicked and carried her, the blood, and as many elf soldier they could spare. The people that are standing up are the survivors".  
  
"This is bad."  
  
"I know. Young Aralokë was the first to wake up. He actually saw me launch the bow at Saleme. One of the Haradrim soldiers was whipping him. I tried to talk to him, but he was silent. He said he had a dark vision and needed to concentrate." I then turned around to see Aralokë, who was sitting under a tree staring at a flower. I felt sorry for that soldier. He had a troubled mind, and always followed his instinct, no matter who paid. I did not know his instinct would save all of Middle-Earth one day.  
  
"Hello", said Duinrama, one of Aralokë's good friends. "Why don't you go grab some food? You should have something to warm your belly".  
  
"WHO'S THERE!" yelled Aralokë. Duinrama jumped up at the outburst and so did our entire camp, for the calm elf just exploded in that simple second. "Oh, Duinrama, I'm so sorry. I just had another vision".  
  
"About what?" asked Duinrama. "First it's the Gondorian Prince, then the Gondorian King. What is it now? The beautiful Gondorian Princess?"  
  
"It was about the Woodmen", said Aralokë.  
  
"The woodmen! Why was it so bad then?"  
  
"They are people too! They live they breathe and they eat just like us! They love like us too. Have you ever thought about that?"  
  
"Sorry. So what happened to the Woodmen?"  
  
"They were attacked by some Haradrim, just like the ones we were ambushed by. And there was a woman. A woman with a blood-red gown. The woodmen had nothing but blow darts and spears. She killed them all. Every single woodman she could get her hand on. She then drained their blood into a large bowl, saying her quest was almost complete."  
  
"That's an awful vision".  
  
"Of course! And that is not the only woodman village! There are whole tribes of them in this world! We have to save them from that woman!"  
  
"Calm down. I'll go tell Anganca". Duinrama then walked over to me with a look of panic on his face. "Anganca, Aralokë...."  
  
"I heard", I told him. "Glorfindel, could you spare another trip to Rivendell".  
  
"Why?" asked Glorfindel.  
  
"I would like you to take all the wounded to Elrond's healing houses", said Anganca.  
  
"But the Elves of Rivendell are leaving Middle-Earth! The only reason I came down here was so that I can fight a little bit more until I am forced to leave! The age of the Elves is over. There is no more room for great heroes from Mirkwood!"  
  
"What about just good Elves from Mirkwood trying to saved their kin? If it's humanly possible for you, please take the wounded and dying to Rivendell and ask whoever's left to heal them. These woods aren't safe for civilians anymore. My army will march down back to Menegroth and bring aid to Thranduil. There is going to be a battle soon. Meanwhile, we are going to aid as many Woodmen camps as we can. Is that okay with you?"  
  
"I'm sure it's possible. I'll give it a try". As Glorfindel walked off, I stood on the tallest hill I found, and within a minute all the Elves were quiet and staring at me".  
  
"We are to march back to Menegroth to prepare for the upcoming battle", I yelled. "However, we are to aid whoever we find in trouble, whether you will have to risk your life or not. BREAK CAMP!" The elves rushed to their tents and began to pack them down, all except for Aralokë, who was staring at me. His cold, icy eyes stared into my eyes and took all the warmth away from my body. It was as if he knew the decision I just took was the cause of our doom. 


	3. Woes of the Woeses

CHAPTER III  
  
WOES OF TH E WOESES  
  
After we broke up camp, which only took a few hours, Glorfindel took as many wounded soldiers as possible, while the rest came along with us. We then marched in our homeland woods, trying to get to our home of Menegroth. The forest outside of Menegroth is a very dangerous place, for Necromancer's agents storm the place, along with poisonous snakes, insects, and the kin of Ungoliant. However, we were trained in the arts of avoiding these creatures, although we never encounter them because we spend most of our time in Menegroth, which is guarded so that these creatures rarely cause any trouble.  
  
However, the open woods are another story. Most of the soldiers had never been outside Menegroth (I don't know how someone like that can join the army), so they were scared at the though of a spider leaping out of the woods, which aren't that hard to kill. The greatest threat was the Haradrim and that female with the blades. We also looked out for Woodmen villages, but our search was dim.  
  
"How much farther do we have to home?" asked one soldier.  
  
"About three more days", I responded.  
  
"Three days! I thought we were talking hours!"  
  
"Okay, that's a little less than seventy-two hours. Can you handle that? If not, you belong in your home with your mother bringing you warm bowls of baby food while you play soldier with your friends. Would you like that? Or do you want to be a real soldier? It's not that hard."  
  
"I'll stay here. I just want to get home and not have to fight."  
  
"In war, you have to fight. We normally don't have to fight, but we're in a war. Wars are about fighting. I'm not trying to be mean, but if you don't want to fight, I'll have to make you resign. Are you alright with that?"  
  
"Yes". I could tell he was all shaken up by my speech. I wasn't trying to be mean to him, but he didn't want to fight and he joined an army. However, his parents probably wanted him to carry the tradition or something similar, so I felt somewhat bad for him.  
  
"Besides", I told him. "It'll probably be a few days before we fight again." A few seconds later, as if the Valar heard my words, Duinrama ran up to me all panicked.  
  
"Sir", said Duinrama.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"It's the Haradrim. I see them through the trees. One whispered that there's a village nearby."  
  
"Everyone be silent", I said very quietly. Even though I said it quietly, everyone heard. I made the signal for 'grab your bows and an arrow', and everyone complied. I aimed the bow towards the trees where Duinrama said the Haradrim were. I aimed the arrow at the nearest soldier, and all my kin aimed to. I made the signal for 'I'll fire first and then you'll fire when I say so', and aimed at the nearest Haradrim. Once I had a clear shot I fired, and the arrow hit him square in the heart. Soon my other soldiers fired and several Haradrim fell. I then gave the 'fire at will' sign and everyone began to fire on the Haradrim. The Haradrim ran as fast as they could away from us, but they were no match for our bows.  
  
"They're retreating", yelled a soldier. "We won!"  
  
"They're not retreating", I said. "They're just running so they can get to the Woodman village faster and avoid our bows. Come! We must pursue!" I then gave the 'draw swords' signal and then ran through the trees to the path the Haradrim were taking. There were still some Haradrim left, so some of our soldiers started attacking the sword-wielding Haradrim. I ran as fast as I could to the village so that the Woodmen could be saved. Aralokë, who was ahead of me, threw a rock at a Haradrim who was on a horse, and caused the Haradrim to fall of. He then got onto the horse and began to fire arrows at the other horse-bearing Haradrim. I was proud of him somewhat, for he was one of my soldiers and just found a very crafty way to help us accomplish our goal. As the soldiers were still combating the few Haradrim, I raised my sword up high in the air.  
  
"Leave them", I shouted. "We must go to the village." I then charged down the same path that Aralokë took and my army followed. A minute later, we came to a hill, and at the bottom of the hill there was a village. I'm sure the village would've been impressive at a different time, with it's hundreds of tents and several religious platforms, but this day it was a sickening sight, for nearly all of the tents were on fire and several tall, meek, lanky people were either running away from the Haradrim menace or facing them with their primitive weapons.  
  
"CHARGE!" I yelled. Everyone then ran down the hill (except for Aralokë, who rode down the hill) and yelled to intimidate our dark-skinned enemies. My soldiers covered the campsite like the Flies of Mordor to a rotting Oliphaunt, slashing at all the enemy soldiers and giving the Woodmen time to escape. Aralokë's horse got his front leg got chopped off and was wailing madly, but he jumped off the horse and began to attack all the enemies around him. I was looking for a good fight when I found a young female covering her three children from a Haradrim soldier, who seemed to be very interested in the woman's body. I then ran as fast as I could up to the soldier and sliced off his head with one swift stroke. Several more soldiers came charging at me, so I grabbed my sword and swung it around. I deflected every strike that came at me and swung behind the soldiers, allowing me to stick my blade through their gut.  
  
All the other soldiers seemed to be fighting this fight really well, except for Aralokë. He looked as if he had seen this battle before in a vision and knew what the outcome would be. Man, how those visions got to him. I don't know what magical potions he took from the healer's cabinet, but he sure seemed to know his fate. Maybe he was born like that. Maybe he made all the stories up. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe he looks nervous because he's afraid to die. Maybe maybe maybe...  
  
"LOOK OUT!" yelled a voice from afar. I leaped out of the way and saw that someone threw a large boulder at me. I decided to see what threw the boulder, and saw a large bear yelling out.  
  
"IT'S THE BEAR! ", yelled one of the Haradrim in his native tongue. "RETREAT! " All the Haradrim then began to run as the bear ran up to them and slashed them, the woodmen blew blow darts at them, and my soldiers fired several volleys of arrows in their direction. Within seconds, the Haradrim were no longer a problem.  
  
"What do we do about the bear?" asked Duinrama, who ran up to me.  
  
"It's no ordinary bear", said one of the woodmen. "Watch". Then, like magic, the bear suddenly transformed into a tall, portly man. I then instantly recognized who the bear was. It was Beorn the Beoring, lord of the woods. 


	4. The Second to Last Alliance

CHAPTER IV  
  
THE SECOND TO LAST ALLIANCE  
  
"My lord", I said as I saw Beorn. I then bowed down and made sure my nose touch the ground. "Forgive me for my arrogance.  
  
"There's no need for that!" exclaimed Beorn with a belly laugh. "Now get off that silly ground!" I slithered my way back up, but then saluted Beorn. I couldn't help but admire him. The Istari were the only people in Middle-Earth who knew of and respected Beorn, but we were the only ones who idolized him. Ever since he saved a child from our land from an Orc squadron many years ago, he has become a legend inside our walls. My parents told me stories of the great Beorn and his simple but grad adventures, and I would like to tell those stories to my children, if I ever find a worth maiden. However, Beorn seemed to think this was silly and forced my hand down.  
  
"Stop that!" laughed Beorn. "You're making me embarrassed. You wouldn't want to do that to me, now would 'ya?"  
  
"No, my lord", I replied.  
  
"Stop with all the fancy aristocrat talk. Just think of me as another being with no more importance in this world at the rock that just stubbed my toe. Is it that hard?"  
  
"Well, you're kind of like a legend in our land. You do live next to our land, after all". Suddenly, Beorn began to laugh so hard that it gave me a headache. He was tramping around the village laughing his head off, but finally stopped when I came to his senses.  
  
"A legend, huh? I can accept that. Now where were we? Oh yes! My woodman friend here and I were talking before we were ambushed."  
  
"We thanks you greatly, by the way", said a woodman. Now, this was no ordinary woodman. He was tall, yes, but he was very fat, stout, and highly decorated. "I am Majaju, Baron of this village. Beorn and I were just talking about an alliance between our peoples."  
  
"You're welcome about the help?" I said, "but an alliance?"  
  
"Yes", said Beorn. "Between the Beorings, the Woodmen, and the Elves."  
  
"I am in no position to declare such an alliance", I replied.  
  
"You are a commander, are you not?" added Majaju.  
  
"Yes, but of a battalion", I said. "I thought there was only one Beoring."  
  
"Me?" replied a shocked Beorn. "No! More than one!"  
  
"Why don't we just go inside?" asked Majaju. He then led us to a large tent, which was probably his. The Tent was guarded by two woodmen, and Majaju signaled them to sit down at a large, round table in the center.  
  
"My army and the woodmen army have their camp set up at a river ten miles from this village", said Beorn. "If you agree to form this alliance, we will meet up with them at that river and then march as fast as mortally possible to Menegroth."  
  
"Everything depends on your choice", said Majaju. "Just write your name on this line". He then handed me a paper and a pan. I did not know what to do. I was in no position to sign the paper, and Thranduil might get mad if I made the wrong choice. Yet, Menegroth might be in trouble, and would need all the help they could get. The two sides of my mind had an epic battle at that moment, but it didn't take to long to end the war. I picked up the piece of paper, and began to write my name on the line Majaju designated.  
  
Meanwhile, Aralokë was sitting on a large rock, staring at his sword, which was covered in blood, for it had killed many a Haradrim that day. He then felt a swat on his back and swung around trying to slash at the attacker, but saw that it was just a simple woodman.  
  
"Hello buddy", said the woodman.  
  
"Hi", said Aralokë.  
  
"Do you know a buddy by the name o' Bungo?" asked the Woodman in his high-pitched accent.  
  
"Bungo!" he exclaimed. "Is he really short? Does he have armor on, except for his hairy feet, which are barefoot?"  
  
"YES!" exclaimed the woodman.  
  
"I know him", said Aralokë, who was really giddy inside. He had thought his halfling friend had died in the ambush. Now, he had learned he was still alive, and he was desperate to have one of his friends undamaged for a change. "Is he here?"  
  
"Not exactly. I found a note on the ground. Why don't you read it?" He then took the paper from the lanky being and opened it up, and found a note written in red ink, which looked almost like blood.  
  
"If you want the halfling back", said the note, "come to the top of the north hill when the moon touches the big Malorn tree. Tell no one, or the hobbit will have a worse fate than death". Aralokë immediately made his decision on the note. He wouldn't have believed the note at first, but his instinct told him that he had to save his hobbit friend, so he made his decision.  
  
"Thank you", said Aralokë. He would save Bungo no matter what the cost. As he was leaving, the Woodman walked off into the woods and began snickering while juggling an apple.  
  
"All too easy". 


	5. A Hobbit Reborn

CHAPTER V  
  
A HOBBIT REBORN  
  
Aralokë got out of his outdoor sleeping bag (which was where all the Elven soldiers slept) and got his clothes on. He looked and saw that the moon touch the big Malorn tree, so he got out. Because the whole camp was asleep, he crept around and was as silent as a slithering snake. Aralokë nearly shrieked when he heard a loud noise, but saw that it was just an Elf snoring (probably me- I like to snore). Once he slithered his way around the sleeping beings, he found some surprising people standing on top of that hill- Saleme, two Haradrim soldiers, and Bungo.  
  
"You actually came", snickered Saleme. "I didn't know Elves had some courage".  
  
"Let the Halfling go!" shouted Aralokë.  
  
"Not just yet!" shouted Saleme. "I have terms."  
  
"What terms?"  
  
"I just need one Elf, Woodman, or perhaps that shape shifter. Just give me any of your friends and I will give you the hobbit."  
  
"What will you do with them?"  
  
"That if for me to know and you to find out."  
  
"Then I shall never agree to your sickening terms!"  
  
"Let me go!" shouted Bungo, who tried to wriggle his way out of the grasp of the two Haradrim soldiers. "Please, this woman is like a Gorcrow. I can't stand it. PLEASE! HELP, DEAR FRIEND!"  
  
"Either you give me a man now", said Saleme, "I will be forced to end this Hobbit's existence." One of the Harad soldiers then unsheathed a dagger and began to cut Bungo's skin. Bungo cried quietly in pain, but even though the noise was limited, Aralokë could barely stand it.  
  
"I'll give you myself", said Aralokë. "Just stop hurting the Hobbit. Please!" He then bent on his knees and began to weep, but Saleme started waving her hand around because Aralokë's cry was too high pitched.  
  
"Very well", sighed Saleme. She then waved at the Haradrim who released Bungo. Bungo then unsheated a dagger, lunged upon Aralokë, and jabbed the dagger into his gut.  
  
"TRAITOR!" yelled Aralokë at the top of his lungs.  
  
"Why do you think you were ambushed in the forest?" asked Bungo. "Did you really believe my story? It was all lies! By me! And I thought all my life that the elves were wise."  
  
"Why?" asked Aralokë.  
  
"I was a farmer back in the good ol' days in Hobbiton", said Bungo. "However, just recently, I've been having really rotten luck. My crops dried out. My animals became sick and rotted away. I lost all my extra money on a stupid bet that Frodo Baggins would never ever meet up with Farmer Maggot again. I went to Bree searching for money, and in the Prancing Pony I found Saleme, who offered me this job. Isn't this a great deal". Aralokë then spit on Bungo, but Bungo would have worse things to worry about than wiping the spit off his trousers. Duinrama had woken up at Aralokë's loud cry, and once he saw the Haradrim, he had no other choice but to yell.  
  
"INTRUDERS!" yelled Duinrama. "Shoot them down!" Before he could say any more Saleme quickly threw a blade, which instantly landed in Duinrama's throat.  
  
"NO!" yelled Aralokë. All of his friends were getting hurt and/or killed right and left, all because of his actions and his stupid visions. Before he could think any more, a volley of arrows were coming straight at him. The two Haradrim soldiers were hit and died within seconds, but Saleme swiftly grabbed Aralokë and Bungo and ran into the forest before any more arrows could hit her. The Elves tried to pursue, but she had gained a large head start. Once I got my clothes on I bounced out of my sleeping bag to see what happened. I had no clue whatsoever to what had happened, but from the look on everyone's eyes I began to feel fear. Once I saw the two dead Haradrim my fear increased, for I knew something wicked had happened here. Majaju and Beorn then ran up to me and looked at me worriedly.  
  
"What shall we do?" asked Majaju.  
  
"There is only one thing we really can do", I said. "We must leave for Menegroth." I looked into Beorn's and Majaju's eyes to see if they agreed, and I saw a look of happiness and vengeance in those big, bulging eyes. "Break down camp, soldiers. Quickly. We march to Menegroth!" I then drew my sword and ran to my sleeping bag to put away my things. The Battle for Menegroth was about to begin, and it wasn't going to be a pretty sight.  
  
Galadriel of the Golden Wood was sting by her special mirror, the one she used to see the possible futures ahead of her. She had sat there for hours, and not a single should know why she sat there. Finally, one of the guards went to Celeborn, Galadriel's mate, and told him of his worries.  
  
"My lord", said the soldier.  
  
"What is it?" asked Celeborn, who turned around.  
  
"The Golden Lady has been sitting down in front of her mirror for several hours", said the soldier. "We don't know what is happening."  
  
"Mabey she is just staring into the mirror and seeing the future", stated Celeborn.  
  
"No", said the Soldier. "She always stands up when she is seeing the future. We think you should see her. She might be in a state of shock from her far sightings."  
  
"Very well", said Celeborn. He then put his book (a collection of historical events from the War of the Last Alliance) down and walked down the delicate stairs to see his wife. She was, as the soldier said, staring at the mirror, which was an odd thing to do. He sat down right next to her and put his arm around her, and suddenly she jumped up. Celeborn got scared, but Galadriel just smiled her sweet, enchanting smile.  
  
"Hello, my love", said Galadriel.  
  
"Greetings", said Celeborn. "You have been staring off into the distance for several hours. Are you okay?"  
  
"I am fine", said Galadriel.  
  
"So what have you been doing?"  
  
"Thinking about what I have saw".  
  
"What have you seen?"  
  
"Many things".  
  
"I mean today".  
  
"Many things".  
  
"What did you see to make you stare at the wall for so long?"  
  
"I saw the fate of our land".  
  
"You mean Middle-Earth?"  
  
"No- Lorien, Menegroth, and all of the Woodland Realms of the Elves".  
  
"What is our fate?"  
  
"Haldir fights his battle right outside our doors. It is a very gruesome battle, but he shall surely win it and relinquish our land of Necromancer."  
  
"So why did you stare at the wall? Shouldn't you be taking a bath or having a feast after seeing something great like that?"  
  
"But the greatest threat comes with the unknown future- the future of Thranduil's battle. Saleme, the abandoned one, has altered the course of history with her Haradrim army. She will march into Menegroth and order her soldiers to destroy the woods with fire, but she will destroy it with something else. She will cleanse all of Menegroth with one dark curse, then our land, and soon all of Middle-Earth".  
  
"Is there any hope for victory?"  
  
"One small hope, a hope in the form of a soldier".  
  
"How can one soldier decide our fate?"  
  
"Sometimes all it takes is the few to change the lives of the many. Now, I think I will take a bath. She then left to clean herself of all the germs of her body, but she still was afraid of the choices that Aralokë would make- choices that would decide the fate of all people. 


	6. Sacrifices: Part I

CHAPTER VI  
  
SACRIFICES- PART I  
  
The capture of Aralokë didn't stop us from saving our city, even if it was an unnerving event. The march to the river Majaju spoke of didn't take that long, and the Beorings and Woodmen greeted us with hospitality. We rode on Beorings (yes- the Beorings transformed into horses so we could move along faster), while the Woodmen were so used to running they ran along with us. The march lasted for an hour before one woodman had to ask the most unwanted question that any traveler could fathom- "are we there yet?"  
  
"Well", I said. "Let's see- the trees are smelling like honeydew, the deer are flocking towards the north side of the trail. We are just a few minutes away from home".  
"Finally", said my Beoring horse. "You do not know how much you Elves weigh!" I began to laugh at the humorous comment. Suddenly the skies began to grow lighter, and I saw several watch towers in the distance- we were home.  
  
"We are here", I said, "at the beautiful city of Menegroth." We past by a couple of watchtowers, where we were greeted by the waves of Elvish guards. We strode by the Thirty-Fifth regiment, the traditional battalion of Elvish soldiers that would camp in front of our city in a time of war, and waved at us with great smiles on their face. We rode for a few extra minutes, and suddenly I saw the large towers of Thranduil's palace, and a warm feeling came to my heart- we were home. We rode up towards his palace, but the palace guards halted us.  
  
"We cannot allow all these people to enter the palace at once", said one guard.  
  
"I was just going to enter with Majaju and..."  
  
"Majaju? Who is that?"  
  
"The chieftain of the Woodmen, lieutenant..."  
  
"Woodmen are not allowed in our halls. Only Elves of Menegroth."  
  
"Tell him that Beorn said so", said Beorn from behind. The two elvish guards (who had obviously heard the same childhood stories I had about Beorn the almighty) bowed and opened their arms.  
  
"A friend of Beorn is a friend of me", said the guard. Beorn, Majaju, and I then strolled into the palace, where we found Thranduil sitting on his throne.  
  
"Anganca!" greeted Thranduil. "It is so nice to see you! Who are these people?"  
  
"They are Beorn of the Beorings and Majaju of the Woodmen", I told him. Thranduil, unlike all the other Elves, gave Beorn and Majaju strange looks instead of bowing to them.  
  
"Who are these guests", asked Thranduil.  
  
"This is Beorn of the Beorings and Majaju of the woodmen", I told him. He then looked at me with even more hate in his eyes and tilted his head to his side.  
  
"Why are they in my lair?" asked the king.  
  
"We hope to form an alliance with the great lord", said Beorn, who bowed. Majaju then bowed in suite, but Thranduil still had a troubled look on his face.  
  
"An alliance against what?" asked Thranduil.  
  
"Sir", I told him, "an army of Orcs is marching our way. A Haradrim witch with very potent powers might combine with Necromancer's army and form a hoard greater than any other we have imagined. The Haradrim ambushed us. So few of our men have returned, and we will need all the help we could get."  
  
"Why didn't you consult this with me before taking such actions?" asked Thranduil.  
  
"We thought that the attack might have already come", I told him. "Also, if these rumors are true, we would need every single being we could possibly barter for to help us win Menegroth. Some say they will fight with fire. Others say that Saleme the Red Witch will unleash a force of magic so great that none could stand between her. If that is true, I think my judgment was good". I then laid flat on the ground as a sign of submission, and I tilted my head up ever so slightly to continue my conversation. "If you do not think that was a worthy enough choice for my lordship, then you do not deserve my services." Majaju and Beorn followed suite, and with what I saw I think Thranduil sighed.  
  
"Very well", said Thranduil. "Muster our new troops. We shall be prepared for battle!" My king's remarks caused me to beam, for I had just accomplished my task.  
  
"At once, sir!" I exclaimed. I then shook his hand and turned to Beorn and Majaju, who were also beaming. The hope we had fought so much for had finally come.  
  
Meanwhile, Bungo was sitting on a large wooden bench (he wished it was smaller so his feet could touch the ground) waiting to find something to do. He wanted to fight, but Saleme wouldn't let him because of his size. It became clearer and clearer to him that Saleme has had her way with him and might just dispose him, but Bungo didn't think that was possible. Saleme was too kind of a being to do that. Suddenly, Bungo perked up once two Haradrim soldiers threw Aralokë out of a room, which would give something to do.  
  
"Hello", said Bungo. "How are you?"  
  
"DO YOU THINK I LOOK FINE!" yelled Aralokë, who stared him deep into the eye. Bungo then grimaced at the sight of his face. It was ripped, torn, and both his eyes were heavily bruised, and the Elf was clad in nothing more than a blood-soaked loincloth.  
  
"What happened to you?" asked Bungo.  
  
"WHY DO YOU CARE ABOUT ME ALL OF A SUDDEN?" yelled Aralokë. "They just interrogated me, so that they could get some information. I told them nothing, so they treated me like nothing. I have never felt that bad in my life!"  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that", said Bungo. He wasn't too sorry to see him like that, but he seriously felt a pang of sorrow when he saw the wounded body.  
  
"You are sorry to hear about this", laughed Aralokë. "Why did you sell me to the enemy? Why did you kill all my comrades and the Woodmen to get to me? You feel SORRY?" He then spat at the Hobbit, and the spittle hit the Hobbit in the eyes. Aralokë had learned the art of spitting when he was an adolescent, and he had rarely had time to use it. Bungo then took what Aralokë had said to his heart. Mabey he shouldn't have done the wrong things he had done for money. Maybe he deserved to be banished into the Void instead of going to the halls of Mandos. However, he did need the money.  
  
"Maybe the dark lord will be kind to you and send you to the Halls of Mandos", said Bungo.  
  
"Sure", said Aralokë. "The dark lord will spare me by sucking the soul out of me in a painful way and then send it to the Halls of Mandos like a good man."  
  
"It's your fault that you defied his commands", said Bungo.  
  
"Let me tell you something", said Aralokë. "After Saleme uses her magic to destroy the world of the Elves, those who helped her will not be spared. Not even Saleme will be spared. The dark lord will have complete control over all of Middle-Earth. You will all become his slaves. He will have no allies, because he won't need any. He is the sole ruler of the universe and no one will be spared! Remember that!" Suddenly, two Haradrim guards lifted up Aralokë and began dragging him.  
  
"What are you doing!" yelled Bungo. Now he was angry. The guards were being cruel to him and his suspicions about Saleme were becoming true.  
  
"We are to drain him of his blood", said one guard. "Saleme requires it".  
  
"Fine then", said Bungo. The guards then continued to drag him to another room- the Church. As Bungo heard Aralokë's cries of pain, he thought of how to make Saleme pay for treating him like a Mûmakil. 


	7. Sacrifices: Part II

CHAPTER VII

SACRIFICES- PART II  
  
"My lord!" yelled a voice into my ear. "The battle has begun!" I immediately jumped up and reached for my sword, but I saw that it was just Dínivas (or Silent Autumn), one of my Elf soldiers, and relaxed.  
  
"What have I missed?" I asked him.  
  
"They broke through the lines of the Thirty-fifth regiment", Dínivas told me. "The force was too big."  
  
"How big?" I asked him.  
  
"Unknown", he told me. "It's a mix of Orcs, Haradrim, and several other allegiances." Once he said Haradrim, my heart dropped. I feared that Aralokë had his blood drained and Saleme would unleash her 'dark and terrible weapon', but I knew I couldn't fear for long. I then motioned to Dínivas to form a line. Soon all my soldiers, Elf, Woodman, and Beoring alike, were in a block-like formation, and I was at the front of it. I then drew my sword and pointed it towards the crowd.  
  
"This night may have many meanings to you," I told the crowd. "To some it will be the night they join the Halls of Mandos. To others it will be the night they will remember in infamy as Menegroth and all of Wilderland was burnt to a crisp and our people will no more. But I pray and pray to the Valar that most will remember this night as the union of our three peoples fought as one and repressed the evil of Necromancer and his misguided allies. I beg you to do your best to make my prayers become a reality. Fight with me, and you will have a reward greater than gold and silver! Teith negil! Lin an I daciles!" All my soldiers then unsheathed their swords and raised them up in the air as they cheered. I then followed suit and pointed my sword northward. "MARCH WITH ME!" I then ran as fast as I could possibly run towards the direction Dínivas told me, and the sound of several footsteps told me that they were following. We marched for several minutes, expecting the enemy to leap out of the bushes any minute. Suddenly, a large, flaming trebuchet flew out of the sky and was flying towards us.  
  
"WATCH OUT!" I yelled. Many soldiers ran out of the way, but the trebuchet smashed on the ground and the whole forest lit up with red flame. I turned around to see that everyone was okay, but I dropped my mouth in astonishment at the sight I saw- a large, wooden dragon on wheels was being rolled across the forest, with several Orcs chopping brush away. The dragon's wing then flung forward, and saw that they launched two more trebuchets.  
  
"Charge!" I shouted. The men ran like fire towards the host of orcs at my command, and they were met with a slur of arrows. The woodmen, which preferred long-ranged combat to close-up combat, met the Orc's challenge with their own volley of their primitive arrows. The Beorings, however, changed themselves into various animals before charging at the enemy. Before I knew it, all the normal-looking men had turned into Eagles, dragons, bears, lions, and anything else you could find in a bestiary. The Orcs just swung their axes dully at the beasts, which were stronger than they were in their new form.  
  
I, not being as fast as an enraged animal, ran as fast as mortally possible towards the host of Orcs. Once they were so close to me that only a thing ray of sunlight passed through us, I lifted my sword up and brought it down with one quick stroke, slicing the Orc across its stomach. I then brought the sword back up and dodged another Orc blow and kicked the Orc away while I spun around to slice another Orc.  
  
"GET DOWN!" yelled a voice behind me. A strong force pulled me the ground and an intense wave of heat followed. The weight was then off my body and saw a large bear, which was obviously Beorn.  
  
"What happened?" I asked. "You almost got hit with a trebuchet", he told me.  
  
"What could they possibly be doing with those things", I told Beorn. I turned around to grab my sword and saw that the forest was on fire. "NO! Not the forest! It can't! It must be stopped!" I ran towards the flames but Beorn pulled me back.  
  
"We cannot tame the fire", Beorn told me. "We do not have enough water".  
  
"We will get some then!" I yelled.  
  
"It would make better use to destroy the Trebuchet launcher than to whine about the fire", Beorn told me. I looked across the field, and saw that the defense was doing well. However, there were still several Orcs waiting for battle, and if we continued to fight like this we would tire out and Menegroth would fall to ruin.  
  
"RETREAT!" I yelled. Beorn stared at me with wide eyes, for he was abashed at my comment.  
  
"SIR!" exclaimed Beorn. "I said we should destroy the trebuchet launcher!"  
  
"Exactly!" I exclaimed. I ran as fast as I could away from the Orcs, making it seem like we were retreating back to Menegroth, when instead we were going to the Aelino I Tinuviel (Pool of the Nightingale), the hiding spot I would go when I played soldier with my friends when I was a young Elf. My soldiers poured into the circle of trees, where a nice, crisp pool lay in the middle.  
  
"About eight thousand of you marched with me to defeat our host", I told them. "Only six thousand are here".  
  
"That seems like a reasonable number", said Mithöre, one of my soldiers. "Why have we retreated?"  
  
"We have not retreated", I told him.  
  
"Then what do you call this!" exclaimed Dínivas. "Lollygagging?"  
  
"I call it 'discussing a battle plan'", I told the young Elf.  
  
"Then where is the battle plan!" exclaimed Mithöre.  
  
"Patience is a virtue", exclaimed Beorn.  
  
"Thank you, master Beorn", I replied. "It seems like the Orc's greatest weapon is their trebuchet launcher, which has sent some of our forest to flames. A lot of are tress have been burnt down, and more are burning. We need to destroy that machine. I have devised a plan where we are to attack them from the sides with a sneak attack- remember, they still think we have retreated. Then, we will march forward to Menegroth..."  
  
"Why there?" asked Mithöre. "It will bring the enemy closer to home!"  
  
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "I will send a scout- how about you, Eagamon- to travel to Menegroth to warn them."  
  
"Okay", said Eagamon, a Beoring. He suddenly transformed into his preferred shape (the shape of an eagle) and began to fly towards Menegroth, flying low in order to avoid Orc arrows.  
  
"Now", I said. "We will catch up with the Orcs."  
  
"How can we?" asked Dínivas. "They are fifteen minutes ahead of us!"  
  
"We run", I said with a smile. I then lifted my sword (Mororë, which means Dark Heart in Westron) and proceeded northward. My whole army then followed behind me, and the Beorings changed themselves into their preferred shape. We marched through the thick trees and the muddy ponds for a dozen minutes when I came to a sudden halt to the sound of footsteps that sounded different from our own. I lifted my arm up to signal my army to halt, which they did. We all drew our swords, for we saw several Orcs and Haradrim walking uphill. I heard several grinding wheels and looked up and saw the trebuchet launcher.  
  
"NOW!" I yelled. With a yell all my men ran up the hill as fast as I could (well, the Beorings who were dragons flew up the hill) and began to swing our swords at the Orcs. With great fury I flung my sword around and felled several Orcs. With our surprise attack we were knocking the Orcs like flies, pushing them out of the way to our destination- the Trebuchet launcher.  
  
"HEY!" yelled a voice behind me. After I sliced an Orc in half with Mororë, I saw Mithöre wave at me. "WATCH THIS!" Suddenly, the Beoring Drakko, whose specialty was transforming into a dragon, picked up Mithöre with his talons and dropped him onto the trebuchet launcher. Once he landed on the dragon shaped device, he jumped off and began to defend himself from it. I cheered him on as I saw him slay many an orc, but my heart dropped when I saw him raise his sword to destroy an orc with a torch in his hand.  
  
"NO!" I yelled. "DON'T KILL THAT ONE!" But it was too late- when the Orc was stabbed the torch flew through the air and landed in a bucket of fuel, and suddenly the whole forest lit up. I tried to get up after the flash, but my soul failed me- I flopped to the ground and awaited in white- knuckled silence.  
  
Meanwhile, during the whole fight, Saleme was taking a bath. She needed to be there when Aralokë was drained of his blood. She would need to say her special chant to make the dark spirits of Middle-Earth leave the void and wreck havoc on the Elves, causing her to battle. Besides, it was an excuse to take a bath. She loved it when the cool, crisp water soaked parts of her body that weren't normally exposed in public...  
  
"Mistress Saleme", said a voice behind her. She turned around, not bothering to cover her body, and saw one of the Haradrim soldiers standing right in front of her bathtub.  
  
"Can't you figure out that I'm naked right now", said Saleme.  
  
"Sorry Mistress", said the soldier, not bothering to look away. "The blood of the Elf has been drained."  
  
"Excellent", said Saleme while soaking her hair in the water.  
  
"There's also a guest waiting you outside", said the soldier.  
  
"Who is it?" asked Saleme. "Earendil the Mariner?"  
  
"No", said the Soldier. "It's Bungo Harfoot, son of Bingo Harfoot."  
  
"In that case", said Saleme, "You can let him in." The soldier then left and Saleme continued to bathe. She didn't care that people were staring at her exposed body. She liked to show off that she had a beautiful body worthy of girl's jealousy and men's admiration. Then, the Hobbit walked in and smiled.  
  
"What are you smiling about?" asked Saleme.  
  
"Nothing", said Bungo. "Tell me, what are you going to do with me now that you've sucked the information out of me?"  
  
"I will employ you in my services", Saleme.  
  
"What will I do?"  
  
"You can join the army or be a member of intelligence or something of the sort."  
  
"How about I enhance your bathing experience?"  
  
"You're going to do what?" before she could say anything else, Bungo unsheathed a dagger and leaped in the bath. The water turned from blue to red as Bungo stabbed her, and her beautiful body turned into a mangled corpse. Bungo then jumped out of the bath and proceeded towards the room where the blood was stored. Once he disposed of the blood, he would make his way back to Menegroth, where he would serve as a spy for the Elves. Revenge could just be so sweet.


	8. The Creation of the End

CHAPTER VIII  
  
THE CREATION OF THE END  
  
The day after the battle, which was later called the Battle Under the Trees, was a grand day for us elves. Even though with all the fire from the explosion and the Orcs being so close to the city, we defeated their host and drove them out of Wilderland. Scouts from Lorien came a few days later, telling us news that Celeborn and Haldir had destroyed the fortress of Necromancer. Celebrations and merry times followed, but there was one thing we notice that was not right- the sky was perfectly blue. All thoughts of evil and suffering had been sucked out of our heads and all we knew was joy. It just did not feel right, especially since the War of the Ring still continued. Finally, a few days later, an armor-clad Éomer came riding to us with his beautiful, scarlet cape flapping in the air.  
  
"I have become the official messenger of King Aragorn of Gondor", said Éomer to Thranduil.  
  
"What!" exclaimed Thranduil. "Aragorn of the Rangers is king?"  
  
"Yes", said Éomer. "It is happy news. He would like to know if you would like to come to his Coronation Ceremony, where he will be crowned King of Men and wed Arwen daughter of Elrond."  
  
"I would like to go to this ceremony", said Thranduil.  
  
"That is most excellent", said Éomer. "You may take a minimum of twenty-five guests to the celebration."  
  
"That is great", said Thranduil. He then turned to me, for I was standing right next to him. "Would you like to go, Anganca son of Aurëedhel?"  
  
"I would be delighted", I told my king. "What about Bungo and Aráto?"  
  
"Aráto is still healing from his wounds", said Thranduil, "and I still do not trust that Bungo lad." Shortly after the battle, Bungo came ridding to us on a pony, telling us he wished to surrender himself to us so we could execute him in any ways fit to us. Thranduil didn't believe in executions, so he talked to Bungo and was impressed by his account of how he destroyed Saleme and spilt her holy blood into the River Anduin. Since Bungo was found with an arrow in his knee, Thranduil sent him to the healers, where he met Aráto, Aralokë's best friend who could not fight with us, for he had a missing arm due to a mishap with a Ringwraith. He told Aráto everything that happened, especially about Aralokë and his death. I later came and told him the whole story, which delighted him greatly. That is how I know about the happenings of Aralokë.  
  
"I can't stay here for long", said Éomer. "I must go to Lorien now and tell them of this ceremony."  
  
"I can do that for you", said Thranduil.  
  
"Excellent!" exclaimed Éomer. "Then I can go back to Rohan and get ready. NAMÁRIË!" The Rohirrim rode of towards his hometown of Edoras while Thranduil walked towards his house, or should I say palace. Happy times would dominate our lives.  
  
Shortly after that meeting, Celeborn and Thranduil in the midst of the forest on April 6th, the elvish New Year day.  
  
"So here we meet", said Celeborn. "The new age of Wood elves shall begin on the eve of the Dominion of Men."  
  
"It is ironic, I know", said Thranduil. "At least we have peace."  
  
"Yes", said Celeborn. "However, we will all have to leave here soon. My wife foresees that in over two more years all elves will be on their way to the Undying Lands, with the last boat caring herself, all the Ringbearers, including the Hobbits, and I. Thus will end the age of the Elves."  
  
"That is a sad prediction".  
  
"Yes, I know. But let's have peace here while we can."  
  
"We are to give the Beorings and the Woodmen a section of their own land for helping is in our time of need, right?"  
  
"Yes, you are correct. You shall take the Northern region as far as the mountains that rise in the forest and call it North Lórien- I shall take all the southern wood below the Narrows and name it East Lórien. As a reward, we shall give the wide forest in between our two regions to the Beorings and the Woodmen."  
  
"That seems like a fair agreement. I accept your offer."  
  
"That is great. I already discussed it with the Woodmen and the Beorings, and they seemed pleased. Do you have a name for this new land?"  
  
"How about Eryn Lasgalen- The Wood of the Greenleaves".  
  
"That is a beautiful name."  
  
"It is nightfall. I must go back to my people."  
  
"You should stay with us. Galadriel insisted that she meet you. Anyway, you could see the sunset beautifully in our Mallorn trees."  
  
"Deal". Thus the two Elf lords rode off to the Golden Wood, where they would find peace. Thus ended the troubles of the Elves..."  
  
"...and thus ends my tale", finished Anganca. He still laid in his bed in a small hut in the Undying Lands. He had chosen a section of the Woods of Oromë and named it 'Mirkwood', for he loved his home so much. People had lived in this makeshift wood just because they loved to hear his stories. Now, however, he was inexplicably deteriorating, which worried all his listeners.  
  
"Why are you dying?" asked Mîrien, one of his most devoted listeners. "You look as weary as Elendil of old."  
  
"I was a very happy man after the War of the Ring", said Anganca, and not just because of the peace. Laurelin, Aralokë's lover, soon became mine on the journey to the Undying Lands and all her woes about Aralokë's death were gone. However, she went for a swim in the Bay of Eldamar one day, and a tide caught her and she drowned. I have become weaker and weaker after those events. We were expecting a child. A beautiful, fair child..." Mîrien, seeing him cry, put her hand on his shoulder and hugged him.  
  
"It is okay", said Mîrien. "We need you to tell us your stories."  
  
"PLEASE LEAVE!" yelled Anganca. "I want peace in my final hours." Everyone inside the hut began to slowly walk out, all except for Mîrien, who began to cry at the sight of his passing away.  
  
"Do not weep for me", said Anganca. "I don't need you to have my fate. You are young and beautiful. Cherish that!"  
  
"Come on", sighed Amandan, Mîrien's older brother. "Mother probably made us a nice, warm dinner, which is probably cold by now".  
  
"Go eat your warm dinner", said Anganca. Mîrien slowly turned around and grabbed her brother's arm, not turning back to see Anganca one last time. Anganca's nurse told Mîrien and Amanadan that Anganca had passed away that night. From that moment on, Mîrien and Amanadan promised themselves that they would tell their children and make sure their children told their children told them the stories of Anganca, which would be later known as the Histories of Middle-Earth.  
  
THE END 


End file.
